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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24387169">Wellness Check</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/YeOldeThotticus/pseuds/YeOldeThotticus'>YeOldeThotticus</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sonic Forces - Fandom, Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Depression, Dubious Ethics, Hurt No Comfort, Infinite Fans may want to sit this one out, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, POV First Person, Post-Sonic Forces, Seriously Infinite Fans- Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Two Shot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:27:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,907</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24387169</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/YeOldeThotticus/pseuds/YeOldeThotticus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sonic hasn't been spotted in public since the end of the war.  Shadow knows from experience why that is.</p><p>First part is from Sonic's POV, second part is from Shadow's.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Shadow the Hedgehog/Sonic the Hedgehog</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>115</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. I know some things that you don't</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Normally, I’m up before the sun- eager to start a new day, blow up some badniks- but lately I’ve just been so… I dunno, try <em> exhausted. </em>  Burnt out, even.  Like, I’ll get up and take two tiny steps outside and suddenly I just wanna crawl back into bed.</p><p>So today, like every other day this month, I did.  By the time I wake up again it’s like four in the afternoon.</p><p>Obviously I know something’s wrong with me, like, <em> mentally</em>- ya don’t really spend six months locked in a tiny box and come out of it completely fine and like nothing’s happened.  The thing is, everyone’s been so busy with the restoration that I don’t really know how to ask them to hang out with me without feeling, ya know, <em> guilty </em> about it.  That whole ordeal just proved that they need me to be strong for them.  Like I <em> know </em> they’re perfectly capable of taking care of themselves- what happened?</p><p>The only one who knows where I am right now is Tails.  Funnily enough, everyone knows not to look for me at Tails’ workshop.  I’m usually out and about, looking for trouble, finding my next big adventure.  My room above the workshop is the perfect little hiding spot.  Tails hasn’t really pried into my behavior either, and I’m really grateful for that.  He’s still a little kid, despite everything.  I can’t in good conscience ask him to listen to me vent about serious stuff like this.  He’s too young to be worrying about how I’m doing.</p><p>
  <em> … Am I a bad big brother? </em>
</p><p>Who am I kidding?  I’m not his brother at all.  I’m practically his parent.  I can’t even imagine what the past few months have been like for him.  I’m just glad he’s working on something like usual, just like he always has been.</p><p>I roll over and check the time on my phone- yeah, it’s past four.  </p><p>But there’s a notification?  </p><p>I have a text- from “Edgelord”, from like eight this morning…</p><p>Shadow doesn’t text very often, and he <em> never </em> calls, but we do hang out sometimes, in secret, just us.  I don’t really mind not telling anyone- it’s more fun that way, anyway. </p><p>I promised him years and years ago after the Black Arms invasion happened that I’d show him all my favorite things about Earth.  And so I did.  He wouldn’t come around very often- maybe every couple of months, but when he did I’d take him to race through my favorite fields of flowers, or the vast snowy tundra of Holoska, or over the Chunanese mountains as the sun set.  Once he kinda got used to being around a bunch of people, I started taking him to things like concerts or my favorite restaurants so he could get a feel for all sorts of different music and food and stuff. </p><p>After we’d finish, we’d find somewhere comfortable to sit and talk for a bit.  I know crowds still stress him out a lot, so I try to make sure he’s comfortable before we split.  He still doesn’t talk very much, so I guess it’d be more accurate to say that <em> I </em> do the talking, but sometimes he’ll ask me about what certain words mean or like customs he’s unfamiliar with and stuff.  </p><p>I can tell that adjusting to everything and settling into a life here has been really hard for him, but he’s never outright said it.  I like helping him.  I like helping everyone.  But it feels a little different with him- special, even.  I’m not sure why.  Like, I get really excited whenever he asks to hang out, in a way that just doesn’t happen with any of my other buds.</p><p>And like I’m used to people being kinda shy around me, but usually that’s just with people asking for like an autograph or a picture or something.  When we aren’t arguing or bickering about somethin’ dumb, Shad’s really soft-spoken, and I just <em> know </em> that there’s a really sweet guy hiding underneath all that angst and stuff.  I try to avoid prying, because I know what happened to him all those years ago is like <em> really </em> personal and I know I have my things that <em> I’d </em> like to keep secret, but once or twice he’s told me about a few things he’s remembered so in return I’ve opened up to him a little too.</p><p>It’s kinda nice having someone like him to talk to.  Someone I don’t gotta act perfect around constantly.  A blank slate.  Someone who doesn’t depend on me to protect them, y’know?  Heck, he can protect <em> me. </em></p><p>Not that he needs to, of course.  It’s just, y’know, <em> nice</em>...</p><p>And then just as I start to get comfortable and think we’re gettin’ along really well and it’s becoming like a regular thing, he’ll just... <em> vanish</em>.  He won’t answer texts, and I don’t want to really bother him that much since he’d come hang out with me on his own terms, which I kinda get.  He’s probably super busy with G.U.N. and all, and he always comes back eventually and we’d go hang out again anyway and everything would be fine until he’d disappear again.</p><p>… I kinda get the feeling that maybe he thinks I don’t like him very much.</p><p>&lt; ( Are you free tonight? )</p><p>             Crap.  He’s probably been waiting for me to answer all day. Uhhhhhhhh...</p><p>( yeah man sorry i just saw this. u still wanna do anything? ) &gt;</p><p>             Three dots pop up almost immediately, and I feel myself smiling for the first time in ages.</p><p>&lt; ( There is no need for you to apologize.  Meet me near the train station in Station Square in one hour; I have something for you. )</p><p>Oh?  Suddenly I don’t really want to stay in bed anymore.  I wriggle myself free from my blankets and stumble over to the mirror.  <em> Chaos</em>, I’m a mess.  If nobody knew that I wasn’t feeling so hot before then they’d <em> immediately </em> worry as soon as they saw me.  My quills are bent and outta shape, my fur is matted and in knots, I probably smell worse than that time I accidentally fell into Egghead’s trash…</p><hr/><p>One shower and what felt like an eternity of combing out my fur later, I’m waiting outside the train station.  I’m normally kinda vain, but for some reason I <em> really </em> wanted to be certain that I looked nice today.  I debated with myself for the longest time whether or not to put on cologne, but something told me that Shadow probably wouldn’t appreciate it, what with his “Ultimate Lifeform” senses and whatnot.</p><p>Wait-</p><p>Since when do I care what Shadow thinks about how I <em> smell? </em></p><p>It’s probably the depression.  Yeah, that’s it.</p><p>I slip on my red jacket and zip down to the train station, unfashionably early for once by like a whole fifteen minutes.  People turn to see me.  Little kids smile and point and I wave back.  I haven’t been out and about in a while, so it must be a surprise to see me again.</p><p>Shadow said he had something for me- what could it be?</p><p>Is it a present?  Did I leave something behind with him and he’s just returning it?</p><p>Who knows with him.  He’s always so cryptic and I normally kinda hate when people can’t just get to the point.</p><p>… I kinda hope it’s a present.  But what would it be?  Shads can be really thoughtful when he’s not being an ass.</p><p>I lean against the brick wall besides the door and kinda zone out, watching cars go in and out of the parking garage of the hotel.  It’s been life as normal for humans.  Most don’t even care what’s happened to us during the past year, and it’s difficult to process.  They say that humans are naturally selfish, and I used to refuse to believe it.  I normally like to think that there’s good in everyone- Shadow’s my proof of that.</p><p>“Sonic?”</p><p>I snap out of it and turn to my right, and sure enough I’m now face-to-face with the man I've been waiting to see.</p><p>“Hey Shads!” I say with the biggest grin I can muster.  Shadow’s wearing his work jacket, so he must have come down here right after getting off.  I’ve never liked GUN, and for the life of me I really don’t know <em> why </em> he’s decided to join them, but for some reason I kinda like whenever he wears that jacket.  I dunno why, he just looks good in it.  He looks a little confused, not to mention a little worried- which is <em> weird </em> because he’s normally so secretive and hard to read.</p><p>He seems to have caught himself, or worse, he caught <em> me </em> staring, because now his face is back in its usual “you must be friendship level five with me to unlock my tragic backstory” mode.</p><p>“I have something for you,” he says, emotionless as usual.</p><p>“Yeah, you said that in your text.  Whatcha got?”</p><p>He reaches into his jacket pocket, pulls out an envelope, and silently hands it to me.</p><p>“A letter?” I ask, looking it over.  It isn’t addressed to anyone, but there’s something thicker than paper inside.</p><p>“Just open it, Faker,” he huffs at me.  “At this rate we’re going to be late.”</p><p>Late?  For <em> what? </em></p><p>“You takin’ me out on a date, Shads?” I laugh, ripping the envelope open.  “You shoulda told me- I would’a gotten a little more dolled up!”  He rolls his eyes at me.  I can’t help but give him a hard time- it’s not like him to plan something like this.  It obviously means something to him because he’s fidgeting a little.</p><p>Inside the envelope are two concert tickets- typical old man Shadow.  </p><p>“You know, nowadays people download tickets to their phone,” I tease.  I can’t stop grinning; I wasn’t expecting this at all.  It’s usually me picking what to do, and it’s weird- I barely remember mentioning that I like that band to him.  I think it was only in passing.  How did he remember?  Why <em> would </em> he remember?  How did he know that they’re playing tonight?  I have a million questions, but somehow I don’t seem to remember how to ask.</p><p>“I prefer hard copies,” he says.  “It’s more impactful to hand someone something physical to keep rather than showing them something on my phone, is it not?”</p><p>Okay, I’ll bite.  I wanna know what he has planned, but it seems like he put a lot of thought into this.</p><p>“Alright alright,” I say, putting my hands up.  “Thanks, man.  I needed this.”</p><p>He nods.  There’s still no expression on his face, but I can see in his eyes that he’s happy.  Either way, it’s a much better look on him than worry, and a full smile from him is something that I almost never get to see.</p><hr/><p>A few hours later, we’re sitting underneath our usual tree having chili dogs and watching the stars.  We had street tacos at the concert, but he insisted, and I’ll never turn down my favorite.</p><p>Now I’m tellin’ him the story of how I escaped the Death Egg a few months ago, and he seems to be listening more closely than he usually does whenever I ramble.</p><p>“How many other prisoners were held there?” he asks.  </p><p>“‘M not sure,” I say through another bite.  I finish my food and think back.  “There was a bunch of floors, a bunch’a cells- most of them had a bunch of people crammed into them.  I think I was the only one who got their own cell.”</p><p>“Do you recall there being holding cells in previous builds of the station?”</p><p>His questions are really startin’ to rub me the wrong way, and now everything’s startin’ to make sense- the concert, the food, our race earlier…</p><p>They were all just a way to butter me up to talk.</p><p>“Work never really stops for you, does it?” I ask dryly.  Suddenly, I’m kinda pissed.</p><p>“No,” he admits and sighs, staring off at nothing.  “Admittedly, I’ve been trying to focus on it since the end of the war.”</p><p>“I get that.  Somethin’ to do, somethin’ to center on.”  ‘Aight, I’m not <em> as </em> mad.</p><p>But I’m still mad.</p><p>“Regardless, that is not why I asked to see you tonight,” he continues.  “I apologize for interrogating you.”</p><p>“Really?” I ask.  “That’s… different.”  I regret saying that almost <em> immediately- </em> Shadow and I fight sometimes, but I don’t want him thinkin’ that I don’t trust him, especially since, y’know, he literally got framed for my murder and nobody questioned it...  </p><p>
  <em> Not even me... </em>
</p><p>He’s worked way too hard and he doesn’t deserve to be treated like a criminal.  He’s my friend- a <em> good </em> friend, though he’d never admit that.  I’ve had a lot of fun tonight- more than I’ve had in months, and I don’t wanna scare him off forever ‘cause I said something dumb.</p><p>He pauses, taking some time to put his words together.  He sighs, eyes unfocused, and it looks like something’s eating him inside, though the rest of the face is still as rigid and unemotional as usual.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen his ears droop like this before, and it hurts.  </p><p>“I asked to see you because…” he starts, pausing again, “I haven't seen you since the war, and I-”</p><p>“You don’t gotta be so formal, man,” I interrupt.  “If anything, I should be apologizing to <em> you</em>- I’ve had a really good time tonight, and I love gettin’ the chance to hang out with you.”</p><p>He doesn’t answer.  If anything, it looks like he’s thinking something over.</p><p>It’s… weird.  Like, he’s trying to genuinely talk with me instead of playing his usual silent and mysterious role, so this is probably really important to him.  I feel bad for interrupting, but I can’t stand people constantly apologizing to me.</p><p>“The jackal’s fight was not with you,” he says quietly after a while.</p><p>“Well, obviously he had <em> something </em> against me.”</p><p>Shadow swallows heavily, and he’s shaking his head.  Hoo boy...</p><p>“You don’t understand<em> - </em>”</p><p>“Shadow, I don’t wanna talk about this.  I came out here with you to get <em> away </em> from all of this-”</p><p>He’s startin’ to fidget again, and I have to ask-</p><p>“... You don’t blame yourself for what happened, do you?”  He looks away and doesn't answer, and I know from experience that it’s his version of “yes.”</p><p>“Sonic,” he starts, and it feels like he’s holding something back.  “He went after you to get to <em> me. </em>”</p><p>“I don’t care.  I ended it.  Whatever he had against either of us doesn’t matter.  I’m not mad at you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”</p><p>He sighs quietly, and I kinda wanna hug him.  It’s not somethin’ I normally do when someone’s upset, and I know he’d <em> never </em> let me touch him, but he’s got his arms wrapped around his legs real tight, and his ears are all droopy and sad and it’s making <em> me </em> sad...</p><p>I think harder on it and it suddenly occurs to me-</p><p>“Where were you all those months?”</p><p>“... searching for you.”</p><p>“What?”  Yeah, okay, dumb question on my part.  But still.</p><p>“I still felt your energy,” he continues.  “Rouge knew where I was.  Once I’d finally located your energy source, she provided the coordinates to the Resistance and from there orchestrated your rescue.  I could not locate an emerald, otherwise I’d have teleported there and rescued you from that bastard myself.”</p><p>Things are starting to make sense, because Rouge told the Resistance where he was almost immediately after I’d escaped.  I almost can’t believe that he did all that for me, and weirdly, part of me is real disappointed that it wasn’t me and him escaping from the Death Egg together instead of me and the rookie...</p><p>He’s still staring off at nothing, and I don’t know what to say.</p><p>Okay, I’ll start with the important thing...</p><p>“Hey Shads?”</p><p>“Hmmm,” he grunts.</p><p>“Thank you, for one.  Can’t imagine that being trapped out there by yourself for six months was much fun, and thanks to you, we’re all safe again.  We don’t gotta worry about that guy coming back-”</p><p>“Do we not?”</p><p>“... What do you mean?”  Okay, my mistake, back to cryptic Shadow.</p><p>“I know you don’t kill, Sonic,” he says suddenly, with piercing red eyes directly on me.  “How can we know for certain that something like this isn’t going to happen again?”</p><p>“If you’re suggesting I actually kill Eggman-”</p><p>“I’m not even talking about the Doctor, though that discussion has its own merits.  I’m talking about that bastard jackal.”</p><p>“Shadow, we beat him.  He’s gone.”</p><p>“How can you know that for certain?” Shadow asks, his voice cold.</p><p>“We don’t, <em> but, </em>it’s up to him to-”</p><p>“It is <em> not </em> up to him- he consciously made the choice to become a monster.  The moment he was given power he chose to use it to inflict terror.”</p><p>He’s turned to face me completely at this point, and his sad and droopy ears have been replaced by angry and flat ears.  My jaw is clenched so tightly that it hurts, and there’s a tingling feeling at the tips of my fingers.  I didn’t come out here to debate ethics, but I’m stubborn and feel the need to defend myself, and before I fully think it over-</p><p>“You know it’s funny hearing <em> you </em> of all people say that!” has fallen out of my mouth.  Whatever.  I’m sick of debating the morality of murder and now I just want to go back home.</p><p>"Why is it that 'the past is in the past,' except when it is convenient for you to use as a weapon?" he growls.  "I know that none of you trust me, and I know that that is entirely my fault.”</p><p>“Shadow, look-”</p><p>“I asked to see you tonight because I know you haven’t been seen in public in months.  I know you haven’t been well.  I wanted to refer you to a therapist-”</p><p>“Are you seriously suggesting <em> I </em> go to therapy, Guy Who Just Casually Suggested Murder?” I say, finally getting up.</p><p>I don’t even give him the chance to respond.</p><p>“Whatever.  I’m leaving,” I grumble.  “Thanks for tonight.  Be careful.”  And with that, I run as fast as I can back to Tails’ place.  He doesn't seem to be in his workshop, thankfully, so I can slam the door as loud as I want to before throwing my jacket onto the floor and making my way to my bathroom to sit in the running shower.</p><p>Yeah, so I don’t know whether or not that Infinite guy is still alive.  I don’t know whether or not he’d choose to redeem himself.</p><p>Honestly, I’ve been trying not to think about it this entire time.</p><p>I don’t want to get into the ethics of playing judge, jury, and executioner of people I don’t like.</p><p>I try to relax, letting the hot water soak into my fur before it drains, and lean my head against the tile for what feels like forever, staring at nothing.</p><p>I feel like a hypocrite, using Shadow’s circumstances against him.  I know that the situations are different, that he was lied to and literally had his memories erased and messed with multiple times.  I don’t get the feelin' that he meant to start an argument this time.  We’re both stubborn.</p><p>But I’m still really angry that he would even suggest that.</p><p>Come to think of it, I’m surprised he didn’t try to follow me…</p><p>I finally force myself out of the shower, towel myself off, and crawl back into bed, and I see that there’s a new message on my phone.</p><p>&lt; ( I’m sorry. )</p><p>The dots that show that he’s typing keep popping up and disappearing, but I really don’t want to hear whatever he has to say right now.  I chuck my phone across the room and bury myself under my blankets, and eventually fall back asleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. I've done things that you won't</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>First part is from Sonic's POV, second part is from Shadow's</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So, how’d it go, Cassanova?”</p><p>I’m not surprised that Rouge is up waiting for me to return, though I realize far too late that it would have made far more sense for me to have teleported directly to my loft if I didn’t want to be bothered.  Damn it.  She leans over the back of the couch, giving me a <em> look </em> with her chin in her palm, but I don’t give an answer, instead kicking off my skates beside the door and removing my socks and soiled gloves.</p><p>Her eyes miss nothing and naturally land on my blood-soaked glove.</p><p>“Holy shit- you actually did it,” she says.  Her eyes go wide, though the rest of her face remains static.  I exhale, and give a short nod in confirmation.</p><p>“Just the jackal.”</p><p>She nods, swirling the wine in her glass.</p><p>“You’re welcome for that intel, by the way.  Anything else in that base?”  </p><p>“Not anymore,” I return bluntly.</p><p>“Well did you go on your little date at all, then?  Or did you just go to axe that fucker?”</p><p>I saw our outing as far more of a “wellness check” than anything- he had not been seen in public in months, and knowing from several years’ experience of how Sonic thrives off of attention, not to mention his behavior after his rescue, this was troubling.  I had to act carefully- the intention was to do for him what he had often done for me, not to let my own selfish desires get in the way.</p><p>I mulled over my plans for well over a month.  This was not the first time I had attempted to plan an outing with him, though it would be the first time I had the nerve to follow through.  Like a damned fool who never learns, I went and picked flowers for him, and once again they lay dying on my desk.  Besides-</p><p>“It’s not a ‘date’ if he doesn’t know-”</p><p>“What the fuck <em> ever- </em> did you hang out with Blue or <em> not?” </em> she asks, tone irritated.  I seriously regret telling her anything about my feelings, but I’m certain that she knew well before I went to her for help.  Reading people is her work, and considering that it took over a year of me stewing in miserable, agonizing confusion to openly acknowledge that I needed help understanding what the fuck was wrong with me, I’d bet money on her knowing.</p><p>I recall how confused I was when I hesitantly confided in her about my outings with him, and the strange ways I would feel simply from the way he would smile at me.  I asked her why I would lock up, why I felt like there was something in my throat whenever he’d look at me with such genuine curiosity and friendliness and ask me about myself, what I enjoyed doing, where I enjoyed going, and why I strangely felt pained by the concern that would shroud his expression when he asked if G.U.N. “treated me well.”</p><p>Rouge was surprisingly supportive, answering what questions I had and giving advice where she could, though she also mentioned there being a social taboo around men being “involved with” other men.  I care not for the opinions of others, however, it pains me to admit that I care very deeply about what <em> he </em> thinks of me.</p><p>
  <em> What the hell happened to me... </em>
</p><p>Though I never know exactly how to respond to it, I deeply relish in the praise he gives me, though he gives it to everyone so liberally.  Rouge said it was a sign that I was “improving” and “growing,” though it seems more like a hindrance.</p><p>I suddenly felt fearful of overstepping some unspoken boundary of what was permissible between friends, between men- causing his bright, comforting smile to morph into a look of disgust and contempt.  Rouge insists that he doesn’t seem like “the type of guy who would have a problem with that,” but even then he values his freedom above all else, and if he knew just how much I had grown to enjoy his company, just how much I desired him, he’d flee.</p><p>So, very carefully, I keep my distance.</p><p>I already felt foolish when trying to connect with him before.  He’s on an entirely different level, emotionally- someplace I could never hope to be.  He is fluent in the art of conversation, effortlessly able to charm his way into anyone’s heart.  He makes new friends with unparalleled ease, and everyone hangs on to every little word that leaves his lips.  </p><p>Despite all odds, I too had become one of them.</p><p>“I don’t want to talk about it,” I reply.  I don’t even know what to feel any more, if I ever did.  If anything, I’ve only made things worse.</p><p>“Oof- that bad, huh?  What did you say?” she asks, directly ignoring my wish to be left to wallow in my own self-loathing.  She pours herself another glass before offering one to me.  I refuse.  “You gonna do anything to make it up to him?”</p><p>Again, I don’t answer, and if anything I feel considerably worse for subjecting him to an interrogation now that I myself am on the receiving end of one not two hours later.  Why the fuck did I not just Chaos Control myself into my bedroom to save myself the headache?</p><p>“Hun, you can’t keep ghosting him every time you have to do something that he wouldn’t like,” she sighs with exasperation.  “Yeah, absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that, but if you want to actually get anywhere with him within the next century, you need to put up or shut up.  All you’re doing is sending mixed signals, and I’d be shocked if that boy could read those signals even if you <em> weren’t </em> being so fucking obtuse about it.”</p><p>“My own happiness is the least of my concerns right now.”</p><p>“At least we’ve made <em> some </em> progress, then,” she teases somberly.  “He’s not holding up at all, is he?”</p><p>I think back on it- he had worn his familiar smile, though it did not reach his eyes as it usually did.  He had been eerily quiet; I had never seen him this way before, his eyes dead, cold, full of doubt, fear, <em> anger</em>.  Without thinking, I had called for him, gently.</p><p>I knew the one thing that would bring him back, if only for a moment.</p><p>“Hmph,” I chuckled darkly as we left the station, noticing his lack of attention.  “I see you’re as slow as ever.  I suppose I’ll have to carry you there if we’re going to make it on time?”</p><p>An ear immediately swiveled towards me, eyes bright once more, that familiar smirk returned.</p><p>There he was.</p><p>Presently, I sigh heavily.</p><p>“I ruined it by asking questions.”</p><p>She rolls her eyes and opens her mouth to give me a piece of her mind, but I’m quicker to the draw.</p><p>“No one seems to be interested in actively preventing another takeover.  I did what I had to with the jackal, and I’ll rip apart the remains of that fucking Death Egg myself.  The Doctor’s used the damn thing at least seven times by now, and it’s still there as if nothing has happened.” </p><p>No, I should not have mentioned it at all, but the crushing feeling of guilt was unfamiliar to me, and what’s worse is that I so carelessly let it be known to him.  How could I not, having seen him alive for the first time in months, and having felt an errant brush of his hand against mine and the blush that spread across his cheeks when he noticed it…</p><p>I caused his pain, his terror and suffering and Chaos knows what else, and that coward stole my form to inflict it all on him.</p><p>“So what kept you from blowing Eggman’s brains out too while you were taking care of The Runt of the Litter?” Rogue asks, interrupting my thoughts. </p><p>I scoff.  The answer to that is obvious.</p><p>“He’d never forgive me for that.  It’s too obvious.”</p><p>“And why wouldn’t he?”</p><p>“The Doctor is his fight.”</p><p>“Such a gentleman you’ve grown up to be, hun,” she sneers.  “Y’know it’s cute you two have a little ‘code of honor’ thing going, but what’s the point of being a government assassin if you don’t use your skills to impress cute boys?” </p><p>I know she’s being facetious, but-</p><p>“He <em> can’t </em> know.”</p><p>“And what makes that edgy little shitheel any different?”</p><p>“He insisted that I was the one who created him, so naturally it was up to me to get rid of him.”</p><p>I don’t recall meeting with the jackal as he said we did, though I seemed to be carved into his memory.  Truthfully, my ability to remember <em> anything </em> is spotty at best...  </p><p>“Just don’t go and get all emo about it.  You don’t need to be unironically retweeting Joker accounts in that mongrel’s place.”</p><p>“I don’t know what the fuck any of those words mean.  I’m going to bed.”</p><p>This earns me yet another eye roll.  I push past her and make my way up the stairs.  Thankfully, she doesn’t make an attempt to follow.</p><p>Thinking back on it, he should have anticipated my inability to remember him from the supposed first time we met- when he intercepted my rescue attempt for Omega, he had been able to read what few memories I did have, and in his mission to make me “feel weak,” he was miraculously able to sift through my mind and what few memories I do have to find what- or more accurately, <em> who </em>- made me feel strong.</p><p>Though in my mind Sonic is attached to a myriad of feelings that are still difficult for me to parse, it is not... <em> in</em>accurate to say that he makes me feel strong.</p><p>Years ago, when I was left to my own devices, I felt more lost than I had when I could not recall who I was.  I didn’t know anything about this planet that Maria so adored than what she had told me, and those memories are still faint and distant.  Most forms of casual interaction felt foreign to me- they weren’t meant for me.  I was meant to be a weapon and a cure, nothing more, and now circumstances dictate that I must find a way to live and interact with others “normally,” as if I had lived a normal life all along.</p><p>Looking back, Sonic’s attempts at getting to know me personally, at showing me what life here had to offer, were instrumental to my recovery and learning what it was to live- to acknowledge that I did have the ability to feel.</p><p>There had been a natural pattern to our meetings, an organic ebb and flow.  At first we would find each other at random, and from there it was discovered that he and I shared something in common- both of us would go for runs whenever sleep eluded us.</p><p>I hope to never forget the genuine look of excitement in his eyes when he had first found me “out in the wild.”  It wasn’t long after the Black Arms incident, and I was still feeling somewhat lost.  I wanted to avoid the others as much as possible, and feared facing Sonic in particular.</p><p>At first, we didn’t talk.  He wanted to- very much so, but I ran in the opposite direction whenever he got a chance to open his mouth.  Instead, he offered me a silent challenge: a race, naturally.</p><p>A race that he would win.</p><p>So I gave in to his questions.</p><p>He didn’t bring up the invasion, and I could tell that he was intentionally avoiding the subject.  I was distrustful of him, of everyone, and did not understand why I felt so small under his gaze.  Instead, he asked me questions about myself- my likes and dislikes, all questions that I had no answer for.  I took no joy from eating, I did not listen to music, I had no hobbies.</p><p>Moreover, no one had ever asked me about myself before, and despite my surface-level irritation and lack of actual answers, I somehow always looked forward to our next encounter.  He was so genuine, so kind and curious despite my distrust that before I knew it my hesitance began to melt away from his warmth.</p><p>After we’d exchanged numbers- something that took literal months of persuasion on his part, and something I only relinquished if it meant that he’d just <em> shut up </em>, he’d message me in the interim- always something foolish, meaningless, and yet I myself took meaning from the fact that he’d sent me something at all, that he thought of me completely unprompted when I was not physically around him.</p><p>It was strangely comforting, knowing that I existed in his thoughts, and as something of a friend, though I don’t believe I’ve done enough to earn that title.  I started craving his attention, though I did not know how to incite any interaction with him without second-guessing myself.</p><p>I was dumbfounded the first time we had been sitting, watching the sunset together, when after an abnormal stretch of silence from him, I suddenly heard soft, gentle snores.  I looked over at him to find that he’d fallen asleep, his head agonizingly close to my shoulder.  I felt amazed, strangely honored, even, that he felt safe enough to be so vulnerable and defenseless near me after everything I’ve done- everything that I’ve done to <em> him </em>- that he trusted me despite everything, when I barely trusted him myself.</p><p>What had I done to earn it?</p><p>A foolish spark of hope lingered within me, and eventually I gathered the courage to tell him the truth.  I carefully rehearsed what I planned to say and collected a small assortment of flowers from the different places we had been to together- a simple task, given his proclivity for nature, but once I’d found the final one I had convinced myself that it was a foolish idea.  I kept them in a vase in my apartment and cared for them to the best of my ability.  I felt remorseful, uprooting them for nothing and damning them to a slow, suffocating death.</p><p>I realized then that what I feared was being vulnerable around him, that if I got too comfortable around him and he realized how much I had grown to depend on his company and attention and praise that he’d flee, and that I’d be lost and alone and alien to the few people I knew by name once more.  What if he used it against me?</p><p>The flowers died soon afterwards.</p><p>And then, like clockwork, I would be called back in to eliminate some other target for GUN.  Sonic would always ask questions about what my work entailed; it was in his nature.  I had to be blunt- my work is classified, especially for him.  In response to his usual question, I do find some joy in my work, as it provides me with intel I could not hope to have access to otherwise.</p><p>And tonight, my work has once again been proven useful.</p><p>I took no pleasure from the act of ending that mongrel, other than the knowledge that no one, especially someone that I had foolishly fallen for, will have to fear this awful person anymore.  He wasn’t even conscious, instead held in some sort of stasis and already barely alive.  It was over in the blink of an eye, and I was glad to have done it.  I would do it again a million times over.</p><p>As I lay in bed now, I can’t help but open my old messages from Sonic, and hastily begin to type before deleting everything in shame.</p><p>( I’m sorry. ) &gt;</p><p>It’s not all I want to say to him, and his context for it is not the same as mine.</p><p>My thumbs hover over the keyboard, occasionally tapping at the screen before hastily deleting what’s been written once more.  </p><p>I just want him to feel safe.  I don’t know how to articulate that without giving myself away or making him uncomfortable.</p><p>I scroll back, past the messages we’d sent earlier today, and land on an exchange from shortly before his capture.</p><p>&lt; ( Hey Shads- u find a new late nite runnin place?  i havnt seen u in forever :( )</p><p>&lt; ( u doin ok? )</p><p>&lt; ( i miss u )</p><p>…</p><p>These had been sent a day apart, and I had declined to answer as I had returned from yet another mission where I had had to kill yet another faceless cretin on behalf of my employers.</p><p>… What had gone through Sonic’s mind as the jackal used <em> my </em> face to cause him pain?  </p><p>Not only had he used my image to inflict terror on him, but the bastard had the gall to attempt to murder Sonic a second time using my form- this time in front of my own eyes.  Once Sonic had realized that I was not an illusion, I found myself tightly wrapped in his arms, only for him to quickly pull away once he felt me tense.  I didn’t intend to do that- it was purely on instinct, but before I could act he had already pulled away.  He apologized profusely, pulling his hands back as if he were afraid to touch me again, but thanked me a thousand times over for destroying the illusion, to the point where he was babbling aimlessly.</p><p>Amy, as is in her nature, had opined that the lab that that monster had been created in was a “cold and lonely place to come into the world.”</p><p>I’m not typically pedantic, however, he did not “come into the world” in that lab- he chose that for himself.  If what he told me was true, that I had killed his teammates and left him for dead, then he clearly had a family before he came into contact with the Phantom Ruby and the Doctor.</p><p>At Resistance HQ, I had been forced to behave myself, mainly staying around Rouge and assisting in the rebuilding of Omega.  Amy, Knuckles, and Tails hovered over Sonic constantly, though he assured them time and time again that he was “totally fine- not a scratch on me!” with that familiar smile of his, though even I could see that it didn’t reach his eyes.  I focused my time and energy on finishing off what I could of the Doctor’s forces, and finding the monster who facilitated Sonic’s capture.  I felt that it would be more constructive than coddling him, particularly when I know he can’t stand that.</p><p>The echidna, still suspicious that I had been absent for months, callously suggested in passing that the jackal and I might share some sort of kinship, being two creations of the Robotnik family.  Rouge snapped at him on my behalf, though I didn’t think I could play civil for much longer.</p><p>I lay in bed one night on the edge of sleep, debating with myself whether to stay or go solo again.  I felt the ambient Chaos energy wash over me, and could pinpoint Sonic’s aura exactly as he rested down the hall from me.</p><p>His energy typically has a restless feel to it, one that gives the feeling of adventure and a thirst for action and danger, though that is normally accompanied with a feeling of warmth, of comfort, of pure, unconditional love- all of which had been replaced by something far more tense, almost trembling.</p><p>Despite essentially being Maria’s “service animal,” as Rouge likes to put it, I am very unequipped when it comes to giving comfort.  All I know is how badly my chest ached whenever I saw him begin to dissociate, his normally-brilliant eyes missing their usual spark of life, that spark of <em> fire </em> in them…</p><p>That night I began planning our outing, with the intent of distracting him with something pleasant before suggesting therapy, which I knew wasn’t going to go over well to begin with.</p><p>And I ruined it anyway.</p><p>I turn to stare at the flowers that lay dying across my desk- a small nosegay of hyacinth, green carnations, and baby’s breath.  They don’t seem to go together at first glance, but the longer I keep them together they seem to match in their dissimilarities.  At least I hadn’t been foolish enough to bring them, or else the night would have been ruined sooner.</p><p>He still hasn’t answered, though I don’t know exactly what I expected.  A brief, informal apology is not going to fix things.</p><p>Then again, I myself was not so easily won over in one night.  It took close to a year of sparse, random meetings for me to trust him, and even then, I looked forward to seeing him again even after our first encounter.</p><p>Was this evening a complete failure?  After all, while he was still somewhat tense, he did seem to relax once I challenged him to a race…</p><p>Not all was lost.  He was still in there.</p><p>I’ve eliminated the big threat, though he does not know that.  I gave him a distraction, if only for a moment, and that was my intention from the start.  </p><p>I heard him laugh again- a sound that used to piss me off beyond belief, but now makes me feel… comfort?  Joy, even- especially when I’m the one who caused it?</p><p>And in the end, even if he never learns my true intentions…</p><p>Maybe he’s the one I could give a chance to be happy.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Three guesses as to who my least favorite Sonic character is.</p><p>My apologies for how long this took to post- it was mostly written months ago, but I had a family emergency literally the day after the first part was posted, and then a few weeks ago I got dragged back to work because my roommate got furloughed.</p><p>Anyway, this will be continued in a three part fic I have planned, though I won't be getting to that one for a while.  I know I told *someone* the gist of what would happen in it, and the tone of that one is going to skew a little lighter than these two chapters.  I wanted to do something a little more ambiguous and angsty here, but that one will be a little more ~romantic~ despite some questionable circumstances.</p><p>Next up on the docket is a one-shot smut fic I wrote for @PeasSketchy on Twitter, which I hope to have posted shortly, then another chapter of Fool's Gold, and a one-shot Blazamy fic I've had in my drafts for a while.  The Rut is still being updated, but for now it's still an exclusive to friends for at least another year.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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